"Thank you." She not only wanted to dance, she wanted to sing. Never in
her life had she felt like this. Giddy, nervous, and absolutely
beautiful. If this was infatuation, she had waited much too long to
experience it. There was a bouquet of daffodils and hyacinths in a vase
by the door. Bending over them, she knew she'd never smelled anything
sweeter.
"Emma." With a pencil tucked behind her ear and big black-framed glasses
perched on her nose, Bev hurried down the stairs. "I'm so glad to see
you." She wrapped her arms around Emma and hugged. "I know you
mentioned when I saw you in New York last winter that you'd be coming
over, but I didn't think you'd have time to visit."
"I have all the time in the world." With a laugh, Emma hugged her again.
"Oh, Mum, isn't it a beautiful day?"
"I haven't had a chance to so much as sniff the air, but I'll take your
word for it." Bev held her at arm's length, her eyes narrowed behind her
reading glasses. "You look as though you've lapped up the cream and the
saucer as well. What is it?"
"Do I?" Emma pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Do I really?"
Laughing again, she tucked an arm through Bev's. "Oh, I had to talk to
someone. I couldn't stand it. Dad's off somewhere meeting with Pete
and the new road manager. He wouldn't have done me any good anyway."
"No?" Bev slipped her glasses off, setting them on a table as they
walked toward the parlor. "What couldn't he have helped you with?"
"I met someone yesterday."
"Someone?" Bev gestured to a chair, then sat on the arm of it herself as
Emma continued to move around the room. "A male someone, I take it."
"A wonderful male someone. Oh, I know I sound like an idiot-the type of
idiot I've always promised myself I'd never be, but he's absolutely
gorgeous, and sweet and funny."
"Does this gorgeous, sweet, and funny man have a name?"
"Drew, Drew Latimer."
"Birdcage Walk."
With a chuckle, Emma gave Bev a hug before she began her nervous pacing
again. "You keep up."
"Of course." She frowned a moment, then called herself a prissy fool for
worrying about Emma having a romance with a musician. Pot calling the
kettle, she reminded herself and smiled. "So is he as wonderful to look
at in person as he is in pictures?"
"Better." She remembered the way he had smiled at her, the way his eyes
had warmed. "We just sort of ran into each other backstage. He was
sitting there on the floor, playing the guitar and singing, like Dad
does sometimes. Then we were talking, and he was flirting with me. I
suppose I babbled a bit." She shrugged. Babbling or not, she wanted to
remember every word of the meeting. "The best part, the very best part
is, he didn't know me." She swirled back to grab Bev's hands. "He
didn't have any idea who I was."
"Does that make a difference?"
"Yes. Oh yes. He was attracted to me, you see. Me, not Brian McAvoy's
daughter." She did sit then, for an instant, then was up again. "It
seems everyone I've dated has wanted to know about Dad, or what it's